


I guess we're here, once again

by pearwaldorf



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mutually Unrequited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 19:17:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3261311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearwaldorf/pseuds/pearwaldorf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dorian is fond of him, but that is not a remarkable condition. Felix is very easy to like."</p><p>Spoilers for "In Hushed Whispers" and the conversations it unlocks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I guess we're here, once again

Dorian isn't nervous about the exams. That would imply he feels unprepared or unsure about his mastery of the material, which is far from anything resembling the truth. He's brushing up on Marclan’s theory of veil warping, because he knows Grand Enchanter Avitus is fond of springing what he thinks is esoteric theory on unsuspecting candidates. (Never mind that it hasn't been esoteric in nearly twenty years, but allowances must be made for the aged and still inexplicably powerful.) 

He looks up from the book he’s been hunched over and sees that the candle marking the time has burned away considerably. He also realizes he’s starving. As if summoned, he hears a knock on his door and Felix comes in, bearing a giant plate of food. It smells heavenly, and his stomach growls. He grabs a spiced Riviani pastry off the tray and practically inhales it, heedless of how undignified he must look. 

“I thought you’d want some of those. Otho says he hasn’t seen you come out all night.” Felix, who has now sat himself on the chair next to Dorian’s desk, smiles. So thoughtful and considerate, this one. And sharp, although that’s not surprising considering his father. 

“You are a lifesaver, my dear.” Dorian finishes a second pastry and reaches for a piece of honeyed walnut dough. “I don’t know what I would have done without you, these past few weeks.” Dorian is grateful for the time that Felix has spent helping him study, quizzing him on matters both practical and theoretical, and occasionally suggesting improvements to spells so elegant he wonders why he didn’t think of them before. He’s going to be a brilliant mage, and he’s going to accomplish great things, Dorian can feel it. 

“I’ve enjoyed our time together, truly.” Felix says, flushing. He suddenly becomes very interested in the selection of pastries on the tray. He finally decides on an orange tartlet, and Dorian most assuredly does not pay attention to the pleased expression on his face when Felix bites into it, nor how he licks the crumbs off his fingers. Dorian is fond of him, but that is not a remarkable condition. Felix is very easy to like.

“I wish there was something I could do to show how much I’ve appreciated your help.” Dorian reaches out to clasp the other man’s hand, and finds that Felix has twined their fingers together. He comes round the desk, close enough that Dorian can feel the heat coming off his body. 

“Felix--” Dorian begins, but Felix puts a finger to his lips. His eyes are dark.

“I know you would never dream of trespassing on my father’s... hospitality”--Felix’s mouth twitches in amusement--”but this is not the same thing.” He leans down and kisses Dorian, slow, leisurely and soft, slipping his hand to Dorian’s nape. He tastes like oranges and honey, and Dorian makes a noise, pleased. Felix breaks away finally, a satisfied smile on his face. Dorian hopes his disappointment doesn’t show. All good things must end, after all. Including this one.

“That is repayment for my assistance. We have no debts between us.” He squeezes Dorian’s shoulder before he gets up to leave, his expression concerned. “It’s late. You should get some rest.” 

Dorian waits to hear the click of the door before he even glances at Marclan. Upon further consideration, and taking into account how much studying he’s done tonight, he feels he’s perfectly clear on his understanding of theory and concept.

He passes his exams in a thoroughly successful manner (as if there was ever a doubt), and he accepts his father’s and Alexius’s congratulations. Felix clasps his arm warmly, as appropriate and expected for any young Altus hailing another for a significant achievement such as this. 

\--

“Dorian?” The Inquisitor nudges him, as gently as she is able, which is to say, still enough to knock him a little off-balance. He appears to have been staring at the tray of sweet things in front of him for a truly appalling period of time, judging by the line of impatient-looking people. He selects something at random and walks to an empty table. The Inquisitor follows him, because apparently he’s her pet project today. His irritation evaporates when he sees the genuine concern on her face. She has so many other things she should be worrying about, not him. And yet it is, he grudgingly admits, touching that she cares enough to check. 

He looks down and sees that they’ve both selected orange tartlets to go with their meals, and he wants to laugh, albeit in a somewhat bitter and disbelieving manner. He’s had a lot of practice with that; hopefully it comes off the right amount of incredulous and disdainful. But all he can do is stare at the pastry in front of him.

“Are you all right?” The Inquisitor asks.

“These were Felix’s favorite. It’s the first time I’ve seen them since I got word.” She squeezes his hand and they eat in silence. He is grateful for the company.


End file.
